Spice of life: A Doctor's Curiosity
by Kaiwi
Summary: Liara x FemShep oneshot. A look into human psychology, food and...Predisposition. Post-War, paragon ending. An innocent date snowballing out of the commander's control


**Author's notes**

**A break, re-editing chapters are so boring but re-reading terrible paragraphs is even worse.**

Yes, another Liara x Femshep.

Human customs, food and psychology. Rolled into one.

…

The violet thrumming glow of Citadel night life restored in all its glory, high sky rises of varied heights littered below the source of artificial light, the quiet hum of many X3M's colloquially named, 'shuttle' humming down orderly lanes with their own destination in mind as the once ruined arm had transformed back into a thriving city.

Hustle and bustle were the name of the game, unlike many of the residents whom had opted for fancier, up-to-date and elegant clothing, the lone individual bobbing and weaving through the crowd hastily, offering brief but audible apologies to any they felt deserved it. Having opted for comfort and discretion, the trademark thin cotton stripe black hoody tugged over and form fitting tracksuit pants.

"I'm late, I'm late, I'm late!" They repeated to themselves, dodging through and heading towards the higher-class district for food and recreation. Silently berating herself for accepting a tour of the new school dedicated to their name, evident this was not the first time she was for her date. Rounded a corner, hopping on a foot attempting to gain traction, she broke into a full sprint like a fox after its prey, somehow maintaining enough control to avoid barging into any pedestrians.

Five minutes into the hasty journey, the woman slowed to a halt in front of a neon sign, the first of many in the expanded street. 'Exotic taste of Delhi', the only premiere Indian restaurants on the exotic and space-age strip. The occasional dirty gaze thrown towards, the relatively young human female merely elicited a rub on the back of her neck.

A Caucasian gentleman stepped forth, thin bicycle handle moustache decorated his prim features, the maître d addressed her firmly with a slight bow of their head, clipboard pressed against his side. Faux politeness in their tone "I am truly sorry, you are inadequately dressed for this establishment."

"I know—Haa-Haa. I know but—My chest…!" Raising a hand up, doubling over to clutch her stomach, taking a brief respite before continuing, "could you **PLEASE** make an exception, just this once? My companion will kill me if I'm late again."

"Absolutely not. We will be happy to inform them that you are held up by extraordinary circumstances if you wish." He stood tall, turning his head away snobbishly before continuing. "Name and time of booking?"

"Dr. T'soni…8:30."

The maître d's face paled, raising the clipboard up and glancing down the list of names. His throat muscles worked to swallow any saliva, lowering the utensils to the sight of the Commander, throwing her hoodie back to reveal the trademark crimson mane and light ginger freckles spotted across her features. They offered a bashful albeit reluctant smile.

A hush fell over the immediate vicinity of the strip, a pause followed by a shrill cry of recognition. The relatively young human's head bobbed downward as if to dodge a bullet, eyes darting around cautiously. This was the exact reason she had avoided tugging the hoodie down.

"C..Commander Shepard. I wasn't a-aware, please, right this way!" The voice genuine, stepped to the side and ushered her in, own eyes darting about frantically as if to protect his own name and reputation.

"Hey—Thanks!" Stumbling in, wincing as a series of blinding flashes trailed after her entrance into the gentle and soothing atmosphere, a clear contrast to the busy strip outside. Two well-dressed employees rushed forward, blocking any potential press and fans from trailing in with wide-spread arms.

Nervously they weaved through the many tables and chairs, occasionally drawing an astonished gasp of recognition in the first-rate restaurant and bar. Shepard kept her head tilted down and low, towards the luxurious earth-borne Persian carpet. Knowing full well that her choice of clothing and extremely rare features would draw attention. Although the latter was mitigated somewhat by the surge in popularity of dying one's hair.

The duo came to a halt by a window side dining table, two glasses filled generously with a deep gold liquid, chardonnay. Across from sat an asari garbed in a snow white ballgown of form-fitting fashion, the silky-smooth material hugging her neck in a velvety embrace whilst she remained seemingly absorbed by the datapad resting against her fingers.

"You're late." The asari stated matter-of-factly. Shifting gaze away from the pad to drink in the sight of her inadequately dressed but expected bond mate. The look said it all, it was just like Jane to turn up in casual than formal.

Shepard sat down, hand cupping the back of her skull as she thanked the Maître d for his service. "Hey…Sorry. I got caught up by the principal." She half expected the asari to barge out in a storm of curse words, the past few months had been volatile to say the least. Especially since they had moved in together, not that it affected their time together much at all, in fact Shepard would often be in for a night, on a transport ship by the next. Liara fared little better since the vast information network obtained, exposure of the Reaper's existence and defeat, the discovery of Javik and their novel together, the pair's interactions were limited to one week, a month.

Unimpressed, Liara leaned back, placing the datapad off to the side and folding her arms.

Raising both hands into the air, "Dinner's on me, alright? I'm sorry, please forgive me?"

"Not good enough." Tone was curt, a hint of dismissal.

The war-hero's lips trembled, glancing about to search for a prop to aid in a change of topics. Gesturing to the pad filled with text far too miniscule for her to read across the table, "What were you read—

"Not. Good. Enough." Liara nearly hissed, eyes narrowing dangerously.

"Okay—Okay! I-I'm sorry, we'll….We'll do whatever you want after this!" That seemed to spark a brief flash of joy behind the piercing sapphire gaze.

"Whatever I want?" She repeated inquisitively, head cocking to the side.

Nod—nod!

"You're lucky my package arrived, so…Okay!" The cerulean asari's expression brightened considerably. There was a hint of mischief behind those eyes. Unfurling limbs and extended the backside of her hand towards, "I already ordered, spicy lamb rogan josh for you and…Butter chicken for myself. Both with wice—No, rice." A faint, perhaps even devious smile tugged at the corner of their lips as Shepard acknowledged, shifting on her seat contently and reaching to grasp the impossibly gentle and smooth scaled hands.

A wide dumb grin took ahold of Jane's features, content to stare into the gaze forever, the blacks of her pupil surrounded by a ring of jagged silver sapphire as deep as the ocean. The audible '_Awww' _of the other guests snapped her back to reality. Yanking her hand back to the palpable disappointment of her companion, clearing her throat and sitting back. "So…What were you reading?"

Liara turned to stare at the profound violet lipstick stain on her wine glass, she started to elaborate. "Since Javik departed to visit the Hanar home world, a vacation or... As he put it, to live like a king, for a while." Gaze shifting down to the golden liquid, now swishing in the glass by own accord. "I've taken an interest in human culture, particularly the nuances of your customs and psychology."

Shepard quirked a brow and cocked her head gently, "You're serious…?" A pause followed by a sniff, her demeanour grew excited. The years following the war, she had developed an appetite for warm meals, particularly curry. _"Here it comes, here it comes!"_

"About which part?" An all too knowing smirk on the researcher's lips.

The human woman full of child-like excitement held off on her response.

The waiters arrived a split second, delivering their dinner and the appropriate descriptions and recommended method for the asari. Following their departure, she turned to the bright bubbly orange dish, playing with the food at first with her fork, stabbing into a large piece of chicken and taking a gentle whiff. Pleasant, buttery and tingly aroma tickled her nostrils. Placing the delectable portion past her indescribably violet lips, chewing slowly followed by a lick of her lips and a gentle tightening around the eyes. "Delicious."

"Not spicy? At all?" The loving war hero glanced back and forth between, heaving a satisfied sigh of relief at her bond mate's affirmation. Their previous conversation slipping her mind as she dug into the Rogan josh hungrily, practically wolfing it down as instilled from her many years in the military. A soldier who is slow and tardy, doesn't eat. The heat and spice of the meal flushed her features but the burn was unforgettable, irresistible even.

Disturbed by the woman she loved, placing a comforting but firm hand against Shepard's, pinning it to the table, flicking a tiny bit of rice and sauce into the air. "Slow down, Jane. You might choke-Will" She corrected as the woman across the table began hacking and coughing, in their haste to respond.

Grasped the wine glass and downing it quickly, banging her chest firmly with a fist. Cheeks flushing in embarrassment, taking the brief respite to compose herself and offering a gentle nod. Moved to resume eating, a pause held her motionless, gaze staring into the lamb. She was forgetting something. "Ah—Right, about my culture and customs, psychology? Really?"

"Afraid of the shrink, Shepard?" Liara retorted with a smug grin, "Afraid that I'll get inside your head? Because it might be too late for that." A gentle tittering giggle emanated from, devolving into a chuckle as it dawned.

"N..No! I..I just mean, it's a b..bit of a step down from researching protheans." The infiltrator grumbled, brows furrowing gently at the notion that she was being made the mickey out of.

"It wouldn't be nearly half as interesting if I didn't know they had someone like yourself in their ranks."

The smooth response summoned a gentle rush of heat to Jane's ears, the asari had been progressing along from stuttering, bookish to captain obvious and now towards a genuine Casanova. Admittedly, she was beginning to feel outpaced by her asari counterpart.

"Was that too much?" The curious researcher inquired, raising her own glass to take a sip from.

"…A little bit, yeah."

The duo burst into wide grins, resuming the meal pleasantly. Conversation drifting to the happenings of the rest of their crew members and companions. What news and other rumours they had picked up during their time apart, and a reminder for the next yearly gathering.

…

Thirty minutes passed by quickly, their silver plates cleared and, in its place, a golden dish, decorated with traditional Earth desserts, New York cheesecake with blueberry sauce and ice cream and Tiramisu.

Liara once again taken by the grasp of scientific curiosity repeated her action with the Tiramisu, aerating the dish on the tip of her tongue. A bitter sweet treat, "Interesting…I wonder if human psychology isn't so different from our own." She reached forward with the dessert fork, slicing a larger portion this time and scrutinized the portion carefully.

"..Mnmm! Wha—" Shepard paused to finish consuming the bite size portion of cheesecake she had spooned into her mouth, licking her lips to catch the remnant of blueberry sauce in the corner of, "…What do you mean?"

"In the article I read, the mention of flavour profiles hinted towards certain traits in individuals, not unlike my own, Shepard. Care to take a guess what I mean?"

The experienced commander shifted their gaze to the bustling traffic outside, falling into deep thought, was this a test? Or simple curiosity. Their features grew hooded as mind raced to discover a genuine answer.

As the Asari guiltily polished off the last of the Tiramisu, she crossed her arms and sat back, seemingly content to observe her bond mate's inner turmoil. But her gaze was drawn away by the half-crescent scoop of ice cream collapsing in on itself, compelling her to act. "Shepard, your Ice cream is melting."

"Huh-? Oh right, wait—Where's the tiramisu?" She snapped back, brows furrowing into confusion before a smug smirk visited those high cheek bones. "Liara…You didn't~"

Liara merely shut her eyes and bowed her head gently, admitting defeat. "Yes, it was delicious. I couldn't help myself as you were…Lost in thought."

"Ah..Right, uhmm…" Jane, forked in a particularly large mouthful of cheesecake and ice cream, motioning towards it for the asari to share. They acquiesced, taking only a tiny slice and offered a slight wince.

"A tad too sweet for me."

"I've got it!" The human announced, sitting up straight and placing the fork down gently. Clasping her hands together and begun, "The New York Cheesecake—" Unclasping to motion towards the dish, "Is overly sweet and tart, like me. Paired together with the delectable blueberry sauce, like me with you."

The explanation was ridiculous, the metaphor elicited a spluttered cackle.

Unphased, Jane continued, "Whilst the tiramisu, a coffee-based dessert from the region of Italy, a sponge cake layered with complex ingredients, is you. Since you're a complex individual, a doctor, genius archaeologist and hell of a fighter." A cheesy grin plastered across the commander's face at her elaborate explanation, "Oh—And the tiramisu is known as a pick me up, like how I used to keep you up."

The asari clutched her tummy, her melodious laughter calling forth a stir of glances and gazes, many amused by their incomprehensible antics. It was a ridiculous explanation with certain elements of truth, the mentally acute alien required a minute to settle down.

"So? How'd I do!"

"You…Heh..You receive barely passable marks." Liara answered, her smile still lingering.

The infiltrator pouted, a small crease greeted her forehead, "…Well, why don't you enlighten me then, Doctor?"

"…Are you sure~?" The tone turned teasing, like an amused professor querying a student's confident submission only to realise moments later they had misread the assignment despite genuine effort.

Jane moved to respond, taken aback as the asari cut her off.

"Actually, it doesn't matter. We'll find out the truth of the matter later tonight…"

"Huh-? What do you mean—Oh god, you're not going to make me watch a lecture are you? Please—Anything but that, how bout a movie instead?" The commander's tone and posture turned needy, certain things remained unchanged despite the years and that was Jane's inability to stay awake throughout long winding lectures on topics that she possessed little interest in.

Liara merely rolled her eyes, shaking her head, taking pity on the woman and elaborated. "Well…It wasn't what I had in mind but if you must know…I intend for us to return home immediately after this."

"Oh…" A pause followed by an inquisitive albeit hesitant follow up, "..Why?"

"You see, Jane. The articles I've been reading suggest that humans whom enjoy spicy food tend to fall on the scale of masochism." The asari's lips twitched upward again, "Benign masochism for most."

Shepard followed along, offering a slow nod to indicate for her alien lover to continue.

Before they could, the bill was delivered politely and shared a glance. Standing up in unison, they headed towards the counter to settle the bill and depart.

Fifteen minutes later, they were out and about in the crowd. Arm around Liara's waist whilst the flawlessly smooth miniscule scaled cheeks rested into shoulder and gentle ridges of her tentacles brushed against own cheeks. Together they ambled towards their joint apartment, the crowd seemingly parting way for them, the journey mostly undisturbed except for the rare, incredulous fan requesting for a picture with the duo.

Many departed immediately, apologizing profusely for disturbing but a teenage asari shared the picture, allowing Shepard to take a quick peek before excusing herself. Jane offered a heart-warming smile to the camera with Liara's position unmoving, steady sapphire gaze peering into Shepard's chest with a subtle hint of mischief, desire and impatience.

With every request, the asari's pace picked up subtly. Until they arrived in front of their high-rise, stepping into the elevator, she broke away from the human and offered the same mischievous gaze in greater quantity.

"…Something the matter?"

"No, nothing…I was just thinking back on the report and its accuracy."

"Huh?"

The elevator doors parted, revealing their hallway. Jane stepped through with Liara on her trail as they banked right and headed for the door at the end of the lavishly decorated interior.

"Benign masochism, Shepard." The cerulean asari paused beside the door as Shepard fumbled for her keycard, slipping it into the security mechanism with a click. "I forgot to add, it suggests that those who suffer these qualities of a benign masochist have a likely disposition towards _sexual_ masochism."

"Heh—Wait, what-?!" Shepard snorting at first, the hand on her back drew alarm as the door parted revealing their wide open-floored apartment, a rough push was exerted across her back sending her tumbling into the marble floor with a cry. "Whoa!"

Liara sauntered through, the automatic door shut with a resounding hiss, the mischievous and cute features from earlier darkened. A package rested by her feet, glancing down at it before kicking it over to the human picking herself up.

"Open it."

"Wha…t's going on?" Jane hesitantly inquired, the combination of shock, hesitance and reluctance served to elicit a purr from the asari.

"Anything I wanted, Shepard. Remember~?" The voice was soft and husky—Threateningly so.

Grasping the package gingerly, gaze bouncing back and forth between. A compact, fine wooden treasure chest revealed itself, the art on the curved top was nothing short of erotic. Smooth but simple depiction of women bathing themselves.

Parting the top of the treasure chest revealed a rather empty container bar a thin leather collar, "Are we getting a pet—Oh dear god!" Jane retrieved the accessory, the front of had a clear and slightly bulky attachment in glittered letters.

They read, N7 Pet.

The researcher sauntered close, "My curiosity is piqued, I would like to test this theory. Won't you help me…_**Shepard?"**_ Like whipped cream and sex, she finished with a renewed hunger. The woman bent by the hips, velvet lips merely centimetres away from the tip of the human's ear. Whispering sweetly, as if it were sweet nothing "_Put it on."_

"Do—Do we have t-!" Shepard fell backwards as their gaze met, any trace of humour departed for the void, she felt her heart skip a beat followed by it thundering in her chest. Fumbling with the choker, the human begrudgingly attached it around her neck with a wince, their locks gazed—Relief. Followed by a flood of warmth, a hitch in her breath as the collar hugged her neck firmly—Pressure against her windpipe, restricting airflow marginally. The effect was near instant, heat enveloped her loins, eyelids fluttered, growing heavier by the second followed by an urge—What was happening to her?!

The asari's expression brightened, clasping the long but dainty digits behind, retrieving a leash out of nowhere. The gaze broke, leaning with the clasp in hand, with a gentle click it was attached. Length of the leash trailed in those pale digits, gaze focused on the black nylon. "You will be a delectable test subject, no?"

Nod—nod!

"Use your mouth, Shepard~"

Her lips parted to speak, "Y—Hnn—ah!"

"Not. Like. That~"

Staggering onto her knees, Jane shuffled close—The same pressure against her neck yanked her over followed by a dangerously low hiss. "On all fours—_**Pet." **_

A whimper escaped, an indescribably addictive sensation as she fell in obedience.

"One final thing, the report stated that those with a penchant for coffee—Or bitter things…May indicate…_Psychopathic tendencies."_

The human could only observe on in horror as their bond mate's body erupted in ablaze of biotics. Their gaze drawing near—Impossibly near—Touching. A bruising kiss—Soft, gentle almost pillowy lips. A claw gripped their heart, stomach suddenly uneasy, fingers growing numb as prickled beads of sweat ran down her back…A warm little puddle followed, did she—No.

Just.

Pure.

Fucking.

_**Arousal.**_

…

**Author's notes**

**Hope y'all enjoyed this one-shot!**


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